


Dark Chocolate

by badassbeverlykatz (so2460done)



Category: Hannibal (TV), Hannibal Lecter Series - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Crack, Cruel!Will, M/M, Post-Episode: s03e13 The Wrath of the Lamb, Post-Fall (Hannibal)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-17
Updated: 2017-01-17
Packaged: 2018-09-18 06:01:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9371249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/so2460done/pseuds/badassbeverlykatz
Summary: He found the bastard browsing through the soft drink selection, eyes glossed over, wheezing and swaying with the air conditioning.  He wiped his wet face with the back of his hands, dazed by the bright lights.  “The restrooms are for customers only,” he explained, gesturing limply to the doorway, which no doubt had a sign taped to it.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I am not a doctor, and have no idea how falling off a cliff into the sea with bullet and stab wounds would impact anyone's health. This was supposed to be moody and dark, but I can't write moody, so here's some crack while I brush up on my angst.

 

Hannibal was delirious.  He had managed to give Will care orders at the vet before the fever set in.  Will cleaned off the blood and Hannibal bandaged their ragged bodies, but after passing out, Will couldn’t get the man to regain coherency.  He alternated between thrashing in the backseat of their stolen station wagon and murmuring broken english at the rearview mirror.  Will’s patience was thin and his nerves frayed by their jaunt with death, but he still managed to give hollow reassurances to Hannibal whenever he started whimpering.  

 

Several hours passed like this, Will soothing Hannibal’s incoherent complaints, but eventually he snapped, threatening and hissing angrily at Hannibal to keep quiet and go to sleep.  It seemed to work.  Hannibal quieted, and all Will could hear the the next hour was the ragged breath Hannibal strained to pull into his lungs.  A glance at the rearview mirror revealed Hannibal’s reflection, face wet with tears as he pressed his forehead against the cool glass of the window.  Eyes shut, stomach cradled, he was quaking violently in his fever.  

 

Will knew he would have to pull over soon.  He could only steer with one arm, which was already tired, and Hannibal’s shaking was worrying.  They only had three more hours until they reached the safe house Hannibal had scribbled directions for, after disinfecting their wounds as best he could.  He claimed there were new identities stashed there, ready for their ill-fated departure from Baltimore, more than three years ago.  There would be cash, clothes, a new car, and hopefully more antibiotics and painkillers.  Hannibal hadn’t mentioned medical supplies beyond their raid of the veterinary cabinets, or if he kept the safe houses stocked while in confinement.

 

Stopping at an empty gas station, Will parked the car at a secluded pump to fill the tank.  He kept an eye out for cameras, keeping his face low and covered with the baseball cap he found on the dash of the station wagon.  There wasn’t much he could do about the plates, but he could try to conceal his identity as best he could.  He didn’t anticipate Hannibal’s tear streaked face stumbling out of the car, completely blowing their cover, and staggering into the gas station.  Will balked at his complete disregard for their situation before topping off the tank and hanging up the pump.  He took a deep breath, limping after the complete fucking asshole, had he finally lost his cannibalistic mind?!

 

He found the bastard browsing through the soft drink selection, eyes glossed over, wheezing and swaying with the air conditioning.  He wiped his wet face with the back of his hands, dazed by the bright lights.  “The restrooms are for customers only,” he explained, gesturing limply to the doorway, which no doubt had a sign taped to it.

 

Catching his breath on the pure, pissed off roar bubbling in his throat, Will grasped Hannibal by his sweaty collar and dragged him to the restroom, leaving him at the door.  Will darted to the register to fetch the key from the dispassionate cashier, before returning to Hannibal’s side.  He growled into the back of his neck, “You fucking idiot, you could have pissed on the side of the road like a normal person,” pushing the key into the lock and swinging the door open.  Hannibal gave him a prissy look from the side of his eye.  The fluorescents in the restroom gave his face a ghostly pallor.  Will noted the haunting beauty of his bone structure before Hannibal snapped the door shut on his face.  

 

Will returned the key to the cashier, who had perked up after the door’s slam.  She gave him his receipt for the gas, unasked for, and nodded her auburn head in the direction of the restroom.  The girl seemed disinterested in their bandaged state.  “Long drive?”

“He’s…” Will flexed his jaw, “difficult.”

  
“Mmm.  Get him a dark chocolate candy bar.  He was eyeing them before you swanned in.”  Looking into her ice blue eyes, he could see a college student trying to get by.  She was projecting her relationship troubles onto them.  Her boyfriend always got her expensive chocolate when she was mad at him, which only soothed their hurts for a while.  “Chocolate makes people happy.” She dropped her gaze back to her phone.  “It’s on me.  Make your drive nicer.”  

 

He only took the chocolate because, for a moment, she reminded him of Abigail.

 

After returning to the station wagon, Will watched through the windows as Hannibal stumbled out of the restroom like a drunken sailor, nod to the cashier, and leave the store.  He looked like he was about to fall over, his center of gravity pushed a foot too far in front of him.  The pain killers had him high as a kite.  When he crawled back into the back seat, wheezing, he had a hard time closing the door, but Will was determined not to help him.  He watched him struggle with his grip, hands slipping on the smooth plastic, and felt a sadistic sense of pleasure at the display.  

 

He enjoyed watching Hannibal struggle.  Will felt it was his due, after all the hurts doled out to him.  He kept the chocolate at his side, reveling in Hannibal’s mild distress, before turning the engine and pulling back out onto the country road.  The car’s movement pushed the back door close enough, and with enough force, for Hannibal to finally slam the latch into place.  The small whine of discomfort from the back seat gave Will a small surge of pleasure.  He considered unwrapping the chocolate then and there, but he figured he should wait for Hannibal to settle first.

 

They drove in silence for several minutes.  After it seemed like Hannibal was dozing in his drug and fever daze, Will reached for the candy bar and peeled back the wrapper with his teeth.  He was steering with his knees with the car on cruise, a skill earned in his youth.  He listened for Hannibal to gain awareness, for his nose to pick up the sweet smell of chocolate.  Will could hear the moment Hannibal’s breathing changed, and his nape prickled with the other man’s attention.  Hannibal was waiting to see what Will did, fever or blood loss confusing his calculating mind.  Then, he  _ shook. _  Will took a bite of the bar, disregarding the pre-cut segments.  It was higher quality than the stuff he usually picked up.  The flavor burst on the sides of his tongue, a hint of citrus hiding in the bittersweet morsel.  He could see Hannibal’s focus wane and return, alternating between fever induced rigors and contemplation.

 

“...You’re feeling better,” Will stated, before chewing around another crude bite of the bar.  He wasn’t expecting any meaningful answer, just assessing how coherent Hannibal was feeling.  If he wasn’t coherent at all, Will’s taunting would be wasted.

  
Hannibal snuffled into his jacket, shutting his eyes against Will’s gaze.  It was cute.

 

Disregarding that errant thought, Will tossed the chocolate into the passenger seat; he refocused on the road and reaching their destination.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm listing this as complete for now, but I have plans for more plot. If I continue, this is going to escalate in a bad way. And by that, I mean Will is an asshole. I'm deciding if/where it's going. Tags to be added if I move along.


End file.
